Rift
by librophile
Summary: Owen Lars was a cautious, but fair man, and treated Ben Kenobi accordingly. And then he learned of a threat he could never allow to reach his home.


**Rift**

It was not long after Luke's fourteenth Life Day, on a visit to Mos Eisley, that Owen heard of it.

Owen had gone into the city for a part for one of the farm's vaporators. Despite his hard work, the gear had been inoperable – he'd even slipped it to Luke to tinker with, pretending it was only a spare to avoid worrying Beru, but his nephew's innate mechanical expertise could do nothing for it. It had to be replaced, and since Luke wasn't permitted past Anchorhead unaccompanied and Owen refused to leave his wife alone, he was the obvious candidate.

The shop he needed to visit was nearly in the center of town, and Owen headed for it with his usual purposeful manner. Mos Eisley traffic was a headache. Anchorhead was busy as well, but not busy enough to have this frustrating amount of road traffic, and though he would have preferred that location the shop there didn't have his part or anything resembling it. He knew because the last time one of his vaporators had broken down, the shop's owner had admitted that his model of vaporator was more advanced than most in the area and hence they didn't stock it. Owen snorted at the thought, wiping a hand absently across his brow in response to the heat as he slowed his speeder to a crawl. He happened to know the neighbors closest had a very similar vaporator to those on the Lars property, but it was possible they already had a supplier.

He spotted his destination at long last and gave the door a look of barely perceptible relief before parking his speeder and entering the shop.

Once inside, the temperature seemed to both drop and rise simultaneously. While the roof deflected much of the suns' heat and light, and despite the fact that most of those here were neighbors – the sort who left everyone to his own business and stayed out of trouble – the tension was so thick you could cut it with a vibroblade. Owen briefly frowned at the beings gathered, talking in low voices in the corner, before heading for the counter to ask for the item he needed.

One being whose species Owen couldn't recognize shook his head. "You'd think the Empire would stay in their own space!" he declared angrily. The others gathered gave a murmur of assent as the being added, "A Force-sensitive on Tatooine? I thought they were all wiped out with the Jedi."

Owen felt a chill go down his spine, his mind automatically leaping to his nephew and the old hermit living in solitude out past the Dune Sea.

Another patron shook his head. "They just finished 'em, no warning, no nothing."

Owen listened intently, doing his best to gather the facts through the gossip as he asked for his part and waited for the shop's owner to return.

Gradually the facts coalesced into a complete picture. A suspected Force-sensitive had been found on Tatooine. Male or female; no one seemed to know for certain, though most favored male. He had been about twelve, just a few years younger than Luke, and if his family had lived in Mos Eisley rather than Mos Espa, Luke might have been one of his playmates.

Then the youth had acted on a sudden hunch in front of an arms-dealer, preventing a weapon from blowing up in his father's hands.

It didn't take long after that. An unexpected Imperial appearance and questioning. A search throughout Tatooine, searching out everyone connected with the child in any way at any time in the family's history. Then the summary execution of the suspected Force-sensitive and his entire family, without test or trial.

No one even knew if the child had truly been Force-sensitive, or if the incident had merely been a fluke.

"Someone must have turned them in," someone remarked darkly, and again there was a murmur of assent as Owen grabbed the part from the store's owner and tossed down his payment. He retreated hastily through the door and headed back toward his landspeeder, brow twisting with dismal thoughts.

Owen knew their family had no connection to the boy, but it was only a matter of chance that had prevented them from creating that scenario and bringing themselves to the attention of the Empire. His nephew had Jedi potential, and out in the Jundland Wastes there lived a hermit who was not only Force-sensitive but fully trained. Though he had never asked, Owen knew Ben had to be exceptional, even for a Jedi, to escape the so-called Purges.

And that was the reason he must never let Luke be seen with Ben ever again. Luke could never be trained. The Empire had taken his brother, and it would not take his nephew. Two Force-sensitives in the same place doubled their chance of being detected – No. He didn't want to even think about it.

Owen climbed into the landspeeder and started the engine far more forcibly than usual, starting away from Mos Eisley.

Owen had seen Ben almost absently wave his hand at a hostile bar-tender, making him back down in his desire to take a local farmer to the Hutts. He'd seen Ben head out across the desert on foot and appear later at the Lars home looking none the worse for wear. He'd also seen his nephew's respectful, almost hopeful look in Obi-wan's direction when Luke had caught him glancing in the direction of a noise Owen only caught several moments later.

No. They must never see each other again. He would convince Luke that Ben was a danger, or a crazy old man to be avoided at all costs. Despite the fact that Ben had saved his life so many times, and was so clearly, to Owen's worldweary eyes, more sane and clear-minded than many farmers he had known in years past.

Owen's lips tightened as he approached home, bracing for what he was about to begin.

He would do whatever was necessary to keep them all safe.


End file.
